Have We Forgotten How to Introduce Ourselves?

I've noticed something lately.

People don't introduce themselves anymore.

And I'm not talking about some grand formal introduction.

I don't need a handshake, your LinkedIn profile and a brief overview of your career history.

I just want your name.

Particularly if, within the next three minutes, I'm going to be taking my pants off.

Let Me Explain

I went for a bikini wax.

I arrived, checked in and waited.

Eventually:

“Jas? Come through.”

Lovely.

I follow her into the room.

She points to where I can put my things, gives me the usual instructions and tells me to lie down.

And I do.

But somewhere between taking my pants off and climbing onto the table, I suddenly realise:

I have absolutely no idea what this woman's name is.

Now, ordinarily, perhaps that's not a problem.

Except this person is about to become considerably more familiar with me than most people I've known for a decade.

And we haven't even exchanged names.

She knows mine.

It's on the booking.

But me?

Nothing.

Apparently This Is Normal Now

And once I noticed it, I started seeing it everywhere.

Hair appointments.

Massages.

Appointments about money.

People we're trusting with our bodies, our hair, our finances (fairly significant areas of one's life) and somehow we've collectively decided the introductory portion of the relationship is optional.

Here's my body.

Here's my money.

Here's my trust.

And who are you again?

I'm not asking for dinner.

I don't need your star sign.

I don't even need your surname.

Just:

“Hi, I'm Sarah.”

Perfect.

We're away.

Meanwhile, Online…

This becomes even stranger.

Because online I can somehow know someone's dog's name, where they went for brunch on Sunday and what their kitchen looked like before the renovation.

But their actual name?

Potentially not.

I'm following someone called Coco Loco.

Who is Coco Loco?

Is that her name?

Is Coco the name and Loco more of a personal philosophy?

Have we met?

I don't know.

But I apparently know what she ate for breakfast.

We've become so incredibly connected that we've somehow skipped one of the most basic parts of human connection.

Hello. My name is…

And Then Comes My Favourite Part

You're lying there.

Pants off.

Vulnerable.

Still no idea what this person's name is.

And then she says:

“If you need anything, just call out.”

Call out WHAT?

Hello?

Excuse me?

Wax person?

Because this is precisely where knowing someone's name becomes extremely useful.

“Sarah?”

Easy.

“Coco Loco?”

Fine.

I'll yell Coco Loco down the hallway if that's what we're working with.

But give me something.

Otherwise I'm basically lying there shouting “HELLO?” into the distance like I'm conducting a séance.

Bring Back the Six-Second Introduction

Maybe this is incredibly old-fashioned of me.

But I think we should bring it back.

Six seconds.

That's all I'm asking.

“Hi Jas, I'm Sarah. Come through.”

Done.

Nobody needs a networking exercise.

Nobody needs an icebreaker.

Nobody needs to share three interesting facts about themselves.

Just your name.

Tiny courtesy.

Massive difference.

Because apparently we've reached a point where someone can wax your vagina before you've formally met them.

And I'm not sure that's progress.

So please.

Introduce yourself.

And if your name really is Coco Loco, that's absolutely fine.

At least when my pants are off and you tell me to call out if I need anything…

I'll know what to yell.